


Provocation

by ameonna (zetsubonna)



Series: Throw Down the Gauntlet [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pushy Bucky, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 19:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2440172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubonna/pseuds/ameonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky juggles all the neighborhood girls like a pro. Steve thinks that's pretty hot. He encourages Bucky to bring his girls back to the apartment so Steve can listen, or, in very rare cases with very rare girls, watch.<br/>Juggling girls isn't always Bucky's best idea, though. His favorite girl's father isn't all that fond of Bucky and chases him off sometimes, but he's got back-up dames and they'll go dancing with him, and if he can't get a girl to go dancing, well, he can always go home and do a horizontal tango with Steve instead.<br/>Steve, of course, is a sure thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Provocation

He usually took his showers earlier in the day, to avoid going to bed with wet hair. His mother had told him it was an old wives' tale that sleeping wet would make you take sick, but when one had a body as constitutionally frail as Steve Rogers, one didn't take chances.

Bucky had still been out when he'd gotten home from class, and he'd accidentally fallen asleep when he'd just meant to sit down for a minute, so he woke up and the place had been moved around and there was a note with a sandwich telling him that Bucky was going to a little gin joint with Betty Walden and wouldn't be back until late so don't wait up and for heaven's sake Steve stop sleeping in your clothes.

The water was chilly, but in the early summer air it almost felt nice. It got rid of some of the stickiness he'd been feeling since he'd woken up, and he rinsed out his mouth a few dozen times to rid it of the taste of sleep and sandwich and tired. By the time he had slipped into his pajama pants and wandered back into the dark hallway, he could see the light in their place had been turned out, and the street lamps shining in through one of the vents in the wall illuminated a bottle of Coke in the corner.

Steve sighed, sitting against the wall with the towel draped around his neck, and shook his head, smiling, listening.

"Baby- oh, baby," Bucky was murmuring, and he wondered where, exactly, Betty had her hands because she wasn't making much noise herself. "Baby, mm, baby, that feels so good, baby. I like that. You keep doing that as long as you want to, okay?"

Steve cracked open the bottle with the hem of the towel. There was condensation on the glass and it slicked his hand. The bubbles percolated across his tongue. He didn't have any business with sugar this late at night, but he really didn't care, he kind of felt like death, anyway. His stomach wasn't acting up, nor his lungs, but this heat was taking it out of him, and naps never made him feel refreshed like they seemed to do for other people. He heard Bucky's belt hit the floor and a little giggle, the slap of Bucky's hands on Betty's ass, or maybe her thighs or her hips. Bucky's laughter was low and purring and made Steve's stomach twitch happily.

"Oh, sweetheart," he sighed. "Ain't that nice? Nah, doll, leave 'em on, I won't hurt 'em, I promise." Nylons weren't easy to come by for girls on their end of Brooklyn. More soft swishes, more things hitting the floor, and Steve had enough experience from years of this to see the scene in his mind: Betty in her stockings, garters and not much if anything else, sitting on Bucky's lap with her pert little breasts in his face, riding his fingers while he kissed her neck. He couldn't picture Betty's face, not really, but Bucky's was easy, the way he held himself, that sort of loose, jaw-forward, pouty-mouthed leer he got when you were just about to go off under his hand

"Oh, darlin'. Aren't you nice? Thanks, doll." _Baby. Doll. Sweetheart. Sweetie. Darlin'_. Every girl Bucky ever slept with heard the same words, and Steve wasn't sure sometimes how he felt about joining this particular club. He was crazy about Bucky, Steve could admit that, dizzy like a dame, but it struck him ironic that Bucky just talked to him the way he talked to everybody else. Or did he? Steve sipped his Coke, turning it around in his head.

There was a bare thread of sound from the girl- a raw little gasp, answered by Bucky's warm chuckle. "Just like that, honey. Mmm..." A low hum of pleasure, a wet slurp- his mouth on her nipple while his eyes looked up at her in that way he had, a naughty-boy look that made a person want to turn themselves inside out and sideways. "I'm ready for you whenever you're ready for me."

Steve grinned into the dark, his shoulders protected from the peeling wallpaper of the hall only by his threadbare towel.

"Oh, Bucky," the girl sighed, and Steve caught himself mouthing it along with her, then laughing silently and rolling his eyes, shaking his head at the ceiling. "Bucky, please-"

He had those hands, Bucky did, warm and strong, rough from the dozen odd jobs he had to supplement the main two, because Bucky had a bum of a roommate and a pair of brothers that he occasionally still helped his ma feed and clothe. Steve let the cool soda spill slowly across his tongue, squirming more tightly into the corner by the door, trying to picture the path Bucky's hands would take once he got Betty's shirt off. He hitched up his own pants, gritting his teeth, trying not to let his mind venture from the current set of thoughts to something that might actually have him touching himself- like the way Bucky's hands burned and rubbed against his own skin, digging into the places he liked, grinding his thumbs into the bones of Steve's hips.

Steve stretched, rolling his eyes at himself and scraping his lower lip with his teeth, scratching at his hair where it was tumbling, damp and soft, across his brow. "Bucky!" A soft, wet sound, like his full lips would make on a nipple or a convex piece of skin like the hollow of her throat. Steve grinned again, slow and self-indulgent. There he went again. Bucky just couldn't help himself.

Bucky's murmur in response was low and muffled, almost lost to the darkness, except Steve felt a twinge of recognition and the sudden stillness, the snap of tension palpable from even out in the hallway, told him that his initial assessment hadn't been wrong.

Bucky hadn't mumbled, "Betty." He'd mumbled, "Evie."

 _Aw, Bucky, no,_ Steve thought, pinching the bridge of his nose at the top, rubbing his forehead. He would laugh, he knew, later. When he wouldn't get caught, when Bucky wasn't feeling like a complete shitheel, Steve would laugh so hard he'd cough, because, as far as he knew, this had never happened to Bucky before.

 _What would I do if he called me a dame's name?_ he asked himself, and then he did laugh, silent and shaking in the shoulders. _Punch him and make him sleep it off, but I wouldn't get that mad. It'd be too funny. I ain't got tits._

Right now, he couldn't laugh. He was busy feeling utterly terrible in sympathy. He also was assessing the hallway and how to get out of the way of the door if Betty decided to get herself dressed back up and stomp out. There was a slap, and Steve pushed himself to his feet and padded back to the bathroom, the towel still around his neck, Coke bottle dangling from his fingers.

Betty cussed Bucky up and down, in a low, furious voice, too nice a gal to wake the neighbors even when she called it quits. She only stopped to put on her shoes when she was in the top of the stairwell, her dress only buttoned most of the way up.

"Um, Betty," Steve said, ducking out of the bathroom. "You shouldn't- I mean, it's awful dark, least he can do is walk you home-"

"I'll take my chances." Betty's cheeks stained so deeply red he could see it in the dark. "I appreciate the concern, though, Steve. At least one of you is decent."

Steve frowned. "Aw, Betty, I'm sure he didn't mean it, whatever he did."

"You just ask him," she hissed, yanking on her coat, "What he didn't mean. I've never in my life! Goodnight, Rogers."

Steve sighed as he returned to their room, closing the door behind him. "Wow," he said. "Wow, Buck."

Bucky was in his shorts and undershirt, his slacks hanging around his hips, unbuttoned, one arm tangled up in his shirt. He blinked at Steve, said, "Is she gone?" and then shot over to the window, flinging up the screen and sticking his head out into the darkness. Betty's heels were already click-clacking down the relatively empty street. Bucky sat on the window ledge with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. "Damn it."

"I mean, it ain't that far." Steve crossed his arms over his chest, the towel still hanging around his shoulders. His hair, untouched by pomade or comb, was starting to curl up into unruly cowlicks all over the place. "Maybe ten, twelve blocks? You can catch her if you jog, even if she slaps you again, you'll sleep better."

"Yeah, yeah," Bucky said, finally getting the shirt the right way 'round, zipping his fly and starting to tuck his shirttails in while his shirt was still unbuttoned, smoothing his hair back from his brow, pacing over to slide his feet into his shoes. "Ten minutes," he said, snatching up his key and rushing out the door.

"I'll leave it open," Steve called after him, and then set about remaking Bucky's bed and generally cleaning up the mess his fumbling around in the dark with Betty had wrought, a smile playing over his lips.

_I ain't trying to be mean, I ain't, but there's a lot worse people to be confused with than Evie. She's Bucky's favorite. She'd be his steady, if he had one, and she's prettier than Betty. I mean, Betty's pretty, she's a real looker, legs for ten miles, but Evie's twelve outta ten, it's a whole different ballgame._

He sipped the Coke as he settled on his bed, grabbing up the comb from his side of the table and starting to work it through his hair by touch, glancing at it when it fell into his eyes.

_Not that it wasn't terrible- it was- but I wouldn't be mad, I don't think. Evie, Stevie. Sounds the same almost. Bucky don't sound like anything._

* * *

 

It was longer than ten minutes, which was either a very good sign or a very bad sign. Steve hadn't been able to hear them arguing in the street, but Betty wasn't the type of girl to be out in the street screaming in the middle of the night. None of Bucky's girls were. He just didn't go for that kind of dame. Bucky's girls weren't bad girls- just bad enough to go for a sweet-talking dapper piece of rough, and while they all liked to pretend that the others didn't exist, Betty would have been a fool if she had assumed she was Bucky's only girl.

He came tromping up the stairs just when Steve was starting to nod off, his shirt still disarrayed when he slunk through the door, his expression contrite.

"S'get home safe?" Steve slurred, not bothering to open his eyes. He was sprawled out on his own bed, the pillow covered in the damp towel, pajama pants hanging low on his lean hips, one arm across his face, the other flung out across the bed like he'd intended to get in a fistfight with the wall once he fell asleep. "'course she did, you wouldna let her go otherwise. Y'aright?"

"Yeah, y'big lump," Bucky retorted. He toed off his shoes before he crossed the room to tug on the towel, trying to drag it out from under Steve's head. "Why are you going to bed with your head all wet? Are you crazy?"

"Cause I been up since six and it's almost two." Steve relinquished the towel and flopped over on his stomach, pushing his arms under the lumpy pillow to cram it aggressively under his face. "I was s'tired when I got home I passed right out, I went t'take a shower n'my roomie locked me out so he could play around with a dame, and I can't stay awake long enough for it t'dry, not if I'm gonna pretend I'm even thinkin' about goin' to morning Mass. Which I ain't, but I'm still tryin' to convince myself God won't mind." He laughed softly, rubbing his face into the pillow. "M'so tired, Buck. Ain't even funny. How'd you get Evie and Betty messed up anyway? Don't even look alike, can't imagine they smell the same."

"I was thinkin' of Evie." Bucky sighed, and Steve could hear the rustling of cloth as he started to undress again. "I was supposed to be going out with her, but her pa ran me off. Betty's a swell gal, but she was a last-minute substitution."

"Mister Taylor hates you." Steve muffled a yawn in the pillow. "Half 'cause you're Irish and half 'cause Ned Davies wouldn't know what to do if Evie let him get a hand up her skirt, dopey twerp that he is."

He growled, trying to get comfortable. "How do you keep all your girls straight, anyway? S'like watching you juggle."

"I have a system," Bucky said. The springs on Steve's bed squeaked as the mattress dipped beneath the extra weight, and then Bucky was flicking the blanket aside and sliding in with him, warm and solid, his arm drifting around Steve's waist as he tucked himself against Steve's back. "Put 'em on shifts, like factory workers."

Steve snorted, moving to line his body up with Bucky's without a trace of hesitation. "Uh huh. And Evie's the Saturday night foreman."

"I'll take her whenever I can get her." Bucky was nuzzling Steve's damp hair, nuzzling into the nape of his neck, pressing warm kisses against his cool skin.

That got him another snort, the tension in the arms jammed under Steve's pillow melting out of him as the kisses came across his pale skin, his lips curving in a smile. "Well, she's a stunner and she blows half her spendin' money on fancy drawers, so that ain't a surprise."

Steve sighed and his hips shifted minutely. "You're gonna get me bothered," he warned. "I don't remember the last time I heard you say a gal's name at all, though, Buck. Picked a bad minute to shift your tactics, didn'tcha?"

"Your fault." Bucky’s kisses migrated to Steve's shoulder.

His shoulder pressed up to Bucky's mouth before he could even think about it, and he tilted his head to try and glance at Bucky's face. "How'dya figure?"

"I use your name when we're screwin' around, don't I?" His hand was caressing its way up to Steve's narrow chest, lips pressing to the point of his shoulder as he sucked lightly upon his skin.

"You 'baby' and 'doll' and 'sweetheart' me almost as much as you do the girls," Steve protested, shivering when Bucky's tongue grazed his skin between the pulses of his lips. "I mean, I don't strictly mind, as long as we're foolin' around, but it ain't like I tell you to say it."

Bucky exhaled a breathless chuckle, his fingers stroking across the velvety skin of Steve's nipple.

"I 'baby' them so much so I don't do what I did tonight," he said, kissing a trail along the slope of Steve's smooth shoulder to suck lightly on the side of his neck. "Baby-this, baby-that, saves you from gettin' mixed up. They're all swell, but they're all also hot between the legs, y'know what I mean?"

Bucky hadn’t ever called Steve on the tiny, high pitched sound that always escaped, briefer than a breath, too quick to properly be called a whimper, from the back of his throat when Bucky's fingers started working on his nipples, probably because he would deny it vehemently and throw a sulk. The touches were fleeting and Bucky almost always found other parts of Steve's body to explore instead, especially if he paid one of them too much attention and got his hand smacked.

"I can extrapolate. So what's your excuse with me? Ain't like you've got a dozen fellas mixed up in the works."

Bucky stopped kissing him then, pushing himself up on his elbow so that he could gaze down at Steve, his eyes luminous in the nightglow that filtered through the thin curtain, his brow creased, lips parted, mouth soft. "I don't know."

Steve squirmed onto his back, reaching up to muss Bucky's hair, ducking his head to kiss under Bucky's chin because Bucky'd told him once that his blushing was so deep he could see it in the dark.

"I don't mind," he reassured him, low and urgent. "I don't. I don't mind it when you call me 'Stevie,' either, you're usually kissin' on me when you do it. You can't help talking when you fool around, I just figure your dick has a hard line to your mouth."

Bucky laughed, dipping his head to press a light kiss to Steve's brow. "Keep on talkin' about my dick, and I might slip you some."

"What if I wanna talk about your mouth?" Steve countered, his hands moving up to slide around Bucky's waist and press his palms to the small of Bucky's back. "I was tryin' to figure it, while I was listening, if you do you me any different. If you talk different, I mean." He sucked at Bucky's adam's apple, humming softly. Bucky had to get him started, like priming a pump, ease him into it so he didn't feel self-conscious about how much he wanted him. Wanting Bucky bothered Steve sometimes, for reasons he'd have trouble explaining if he were ever asked. "I like that you talk, though. I ain't been with enough people to figure out how much is normal."

Bucky kissed Steve's lips instead, a hint of girlie powder and perfume still clinging to his skin, and then he shifted to settle between Steve's thighs, wrapping his arms around him, lifting Steve's hips with his palms under his ass.

Sometimes it took Steve a little while to get hard, and sometimes he couldn't get hard at all, but apparently this was one of the good nights because he was half-stocked already and he laughed softly into Bucky's mouth. "I see how it is," he breathed, nibbling Bucky's mouth. His hands were soft and damp, he dragged the tips of his fingers in shallow furrows down Bucky's back. "Can't get Evie, Betty runs off, I'm the third stringer."

"Nah, baby," Bucky's voice slightly slurred as he dragged his lips over Steve's jaw and kissed down the length of his neck, pressing Steve's hips into his stomach. "You're my sure thing."

"You're a wolf," Steve sighed, tilting his head back, not bothering to wrap his thighs around Bucky's waist because he didn't have to. "At least if you stick it in my mouth tonight, it won't taste like rubber." He gave a little squirm and spoke, soft and shy against Bucky's ear, "Don't really wanna suck it, though. M'tired. If you wanna slip it to me, that'd be better."

"Mmm?" Bucky's mouth lingered on the dark spot on Steve's jaw, then shifted to the one on his throat, tracing the path from mole to mole with the tip of his tongue, like mapping the stars in a constellation. "You askin' for it?"

Now it was Steve's turn to go silent, his eyes slipping closed, his breathing going momentarily ragged as he worried about whether being Bucky's sure thing and actually asking for it had different meanings. "I don't know."

Bucky pushed himself up on his elbow again, and then ran his fingers through Steve's hair, pushing the damp wheaten strands back from his brow. "Don't get all mushy on me, Rogers."

"How could I?" Steve retorted, playing it off immediately and relieved to do so. "With your stupid mug." His tongue flickered across his full lips and he shrugged back into the bed, bumping his knuckles against Bucky's jaw in a gesture that was half caress and half punch. "You're the one been drinkin', I ain't. Gonna take some talkin' if you want me outta my drawers. And you better not call me Evie, or you can go rub one out on your own."

Bucky bit his lip, and then he shook his head, rocking back onto his knees and nudging the blanket aside so that his gaze could flicker down the length of Steve's slim, pale body. "White as a fishbelly," he observed and then, before Steve could cuff him or otherwise protest, he sank down to fix his mouth upon one of Steve's perfect pink nipples, still on his knees with his ass in the air as he slid out of his shorts.

The moan that Steve had to choke off by snapping his mouth closed embarrassed him so badly that he could only respond by cuffing the side of Bucky's head. Not hard, but enough for it to count, and then he was squirming to try and unbow his back so he could deny having arched into Bucky's mouth so hard he'd nearly knocked him off. "Damn it, Bucky," he hissed.

Bucky made a delighted sound, kicking the sheet from his legs and his shorts onto the floor before he started to pull at Steve's, his mouth opening to exhale a hot panting breath against his skin as his tongue traced around the velvet skin of Steve's nipple before he started to suck it again, lashing his tongue against it.

"Goddamn it," Steve whined, shoving at Bucky's shoulders, his own going crooked as he flinched under the attention, his breath hitching, his head rolling back into the covers. "Quit- hnh- quit it, don't-" He was panting and his color was going up, his hands curling against Bucky's shoulders as he pushed and tried to squirm down the bed. "Don't you- I ain't- oh my God, Bucky, stoppit-"

"Oh my God, baby," Bucky laughed, and it was the only respite Steve got before Bucky continued his assault on the other nipple, sucking the tender flesh, pressing his teeth into the skin surrounding it.

"Don'tfuckin'bitemeohmyChrist-" And it wasn't that Steve never said 'fuck,' it was just that Bucky could count on one hand the number of times he'd heard Steve say it, and they'd known each other almost twenty years at this point. Steve was appalled, really. Bucky didn't normally play with Steve's nipples, because, as Steve was trying to choke out between swearing, gasping and trying to pull himself away from Bucky's mouth, he wasn't a damn dame, and it wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, and Bucky's teeth didn't belong there and he grabbed a handful of Bucky's hair and tried to pull him off, but his chest was arching into Bucky's mouth at the same time and it was like he was wrestling with himself.

Bucky relented almost immediately, up on his elbows again, blinking first at Steve's chest and then at his face, his expression somewhat stunned. But then a smile started to steal across his face, slow and incredulous, like he'd just won the lottery, as he exhaled a chuffing, breathy laugh. "Really?"

"Shut up," Steve complained, and he was pink and surly and hot. He settled back into the bed, running his hands up Bucky's arms to shoulders. "I can't help it. If you're gonna start trying to fool with 'em every time we screw, I'm gonna start wearin' shirts to bed."

Still smirking, Bucky held his hand out, pointing toward the jar of Vaseline tucked away on the corner of his end table. It was close enough for Steve to squirm over and grab it, especially with Bucky holding his hips as he dangled half off the bed, and then Bucky dragged him back across the sheet as if he weighed next to nothing, plucked the jar from his hand, and dipped his head back down to Steve's chest.

Steve curled his fingers over his own mouth, so only Bucky was close enough to hear the litany of whimpers, whines and expletives that trailed from his lips as Bucky's tongue circled, stroked and lathed over Steve's nipples. It was almost just by touch that he could find them, they were so pale they blended into his skin at the edges. Scraping them with his teeth made Steve's entire body shake and his fists come pounding at Bucky's shoulders, his movements uncoordinated and erratic. They got hard and relaxed by turns, and when they were softer they were more sensitive, but any kind of pressure while they were taut resulted in the same trembling little convulsions as Bucky's teeth, especially when he pinched them between his lips and Steve's hips reflexively jerked into Bucky's stomach. Increasing the urgency of those inviting little twitches was the way Bucky's warm, slick fingers were sliding up and down the crack of Steve's ass, teasing him with the way he would brush and explore all the little ripples and crinkles around the edge of his hole, the way the sparse, fine blond hair would relent to the slippery damp of Bucky's touch and cling to Steve's skin.

"Stop." Steve finally started to try and squirm away again when his cock had gotten so hard and was leaking so much it was practically painting Bucky's stomach every time they pressed together. "Jesus, Bucky, quit- quit- oh my God, Bucky. Bucky."

"Baby boy," Bucky said warmly, his cheek pressed to Steve's narrow chest, his breath ghosting cool across his damp nipple. "Sweet baby doll."

And there was the difference, right there- the dames were ‘baby’ or ‘doll’ but never 'my baby' or ‘baby doll,’ ‘atta girl’ and ‘good girl’ but never ‘baby girl,’ and Bucky was teasing Steve and ignoring his complaints and kissing and petting him for a far longer stretch of time than he would have afforded any dame. Pale eyes flashed up at Steve, and then Bucky pursed his lips and sucked in a breath in sympathy as a slick finger started to breach his entrance, the way Bucky bit his lip and squirmed his hips against the bed the only indication of how much he longed for more.

Steve choked, Bucky's eyes having caught his and locked his chin down harder than if he'd grabbed him, and he kept trying to meet Bucky's eyes even as Bucky's finger slid in up past his second knuckle and his own kept rolling, long, thick lashes fluttering as he fought to breathe.

"Bucky," he whispered, husky. "Bucky, Bucky-" Eventually Steve's eyes drifted mostly closed and his stomach stopped twitching as violently, his hands curled against Bucky's shoulders. "Bucky-" Steve panted. "Bucky, Bucky, Bucky- Buck- Buck- Bucky-" He was relaxing, willing himself open, focusing on his breathing and his muscles and trying not to let himself shake until he fell apart.

Bucky pushed himself up, leaning in to hover close to Steve's face, his gaze flickering across Steve's features, and then he pulled out the first finger and started to add a second, slow and easy. "Yeah?"

"Oh my God, Bucky!" Steve sighed, curling his hips upward to make it easier for Bucky's fingers to reach inside him, melting into the pillow and the tiny, rumpled bed that was barely big enough to begin with but somehow felt the exact right size when he and Bucky were twining into each other. "Please- please- right- right-" He fell silent, stopped breathing, nodding frantically as Bucky's fingers pushed into the subtle, firm bundle of his prostate, his lips parted, teeth bared, brows furrowed.

"Bucky-" he hissed when he breathed again.

"Right there, huh?" Bucky mumbled, eyes half-lidded, all but grinning as his fingers stroked inside him, shifted apart to stretch him open before scissoring back together and stroking again, slowly, tenderly.

His eyes rolled, and he shook his head sharply, trying to look up at Bucky before they crossed and rolled again, his hips twitching upward. He was breathing through his mouth, and the sound was tense but steady, and he drew his hands from his face to reach up and stroke his way along Bucky's chest, curling them over his shoulders. His fingers moved timorously, over the back of Bucky's neck and he tangled his fingers in Bucky's hair as he leaned his head back. His lips were parted and his tongue seemed to be trying to escape past them, glistening and wet in the darkness of his mouth. His hair was absolutely wrecked from all the burrowing he'd been doing into the covers. "Bucky-" Steve ventured, seeming to have thought of something he wanted but too cautious to come right out and say it immediately. "Buck- Bucky-"

Bucky pressed a tender kiss to his panting mouth, and then to the side of his neck, mumbling, "Whatever you want, baby," before he started to kiss his chest again, and as the stroke of his fingers became more forceful, insistent, he started to suck on Steve's nipples again, nipping at his tender skin, soothing the bites with tender swipes of his tongue.

"Bucky!" It was a soft sound, tender, it fell from Steve's lips before he could control it, his chest arching up to Bucky's mouth as he pushed down on his fingers and shuddered. "More," he pleaded, rasping and quiet. "Don'- donstop- ma- make me- I wanna-" Bucky really could see how much Steve blushed even in the dark, he was that pale, and right now he was pink all over, his fingers tangled and clutching in Bucky's hair. "I wanna- like this, I wanna, Bucky, Bucky, please-"

"More?" Bucky arched a brow at him, and then his fingers started to slip out, and Steve had an urge to punch him in the head for a split second until he started to press him with a third finger, watching him, trapping the taut peak of his nipple between his teeth.

Steve's face crumpled, his eyes clenching shut, pulling Bucky's hair as he rose up to push his nipple toward Bucky's mouth, his slim chest hitching and shaking as he spread his legs wider. He was breathing loudly, deep and labored, but he was still breathing, it was still steady, and his freshly washed skin was starting to slick with sweat. "Bucky!" he begged. "Bucky, Bucky, Bucky Bucky- Bucky- BuckyBuckyBucky-"

"Shh, shh," Bucky hissed, grinning, and then he was sucking hard, sucking Steve's nipple until it stung, moving down, favoring his chest and throat and belly with bite after bite after loving bite. All the while his fingers were thrusting up into him, not deep, just deep enough.

Bucky's mouth on Steve's stomach was almost as effective as it had been on Steve's nipples, he shook and twitched and worked one hand free of Bucky's hair to smother the way Bucky's name kept tumbling from his lips over and over, needing and wanting so much he would have been appalled if he'd been in his right mind, his thighs shaking the longer he tried to hold them apart.

Settling down between them, Bucky slipped his free hand out from beneath Steve's hips and wrapped it around his cock instead, giving the swollen purpled tip a quick swipe with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth with a wet slurp.

The noises that escaped from behind Steve's hand had baritone and bass notes, and the fingers in Bucky's hair clenched tighter than ever. His hips twitched, he couldn't help it, he jerked his hips forward and his head back and his ass bore down on Bucky's fingers in a paroxysm of pleasure.

"Bucky-" He attempted to get his fingers free so that Bucky could pull back if he liked, but it was too late. Steve was already coming, and he was coming so hard it made his eyes open, go dark and and roll back, his hips surging toward Bucky's mouth and just as quickly falling back to grind on Bucky's fingers, a little twitch of Bucky's wrist putting even more firm, solid pressure in the right place and he was coming harder, melting into the sheets and keening brokenly into his palm.

Bucky hummed at him, pleased, still caressing Steve's cock with his tongue as it went gradually soft, his fingers still a thick, hot, steady presence in his ass, even when he finally pulled his mouth away and rubbed his cheek against Steve's inner thigh. "You want it, don'tcha, Stevie?"

Steve was breathless and wrecked, his eyes dizzy and dark when they floated down to meet Bucky's. "Hnh?"

Bucky carefully twisted his fingers, licking his lips when Steve choked back another moan and arched off the bed. "You want it, don'tcha? Tell me you want it, baby boy. Tell me just what you want."

"Christ, Bucky," Steve whispered, closing his eyes, rotating his hips. "Jesus Christ."

"Come on. You know I'm gonna give it to you," Bucky was grinning, smug, practically twitching his ass in the air like a cat waiting to pounce. "Just- lemme hear it. You never ask me, you justlet me. N'you do want me, don'tcha?"

"Goddamn it," Steve rasped. "Yes. God, yes, you stupid jerk. I want it. Get your ass up here already."

"Want what?" Bucky prompted, grinning even wider, his eyes sparkling in the light from the window.

"I want you to do me." Steve squirmed when Bucky twisted his fingers again. "C'mon."

"Do what?" Bucky pressed, his shoulders shaking with barely repressed laughter.

"Get your obnoxious, vain, preening self up here and put it in me, okay?"

Bucky considered, then ground his fingers into Steve's prostate, palming his cock with the other hand and actually letting a giggle slip when Steve moaned. "Say please."

"Go to Hell!" Steve hissed. Every nerve in his body was on fire and he felt like he was going to faint from blushing so hard, so naturally Bucky was humming his disagreement and sucking a hickey into his thigh. "Bucky," he complained.

"Ask nice and you can have all the dick you want," Bucky promised. "Mm, and say 'fuck' again, make me believe you."

"I hate you so much." Steve cuffed the side of Bucky's head, then rubbed his face. He closed his eyes and tried again. "Please, Bucky. Please fuck me, please. I want you so bad, please."

"I don't think you mean it," Bucky demurred, and Steve hit him again, so, laughing, he slipped his fingers out and crawled up to half-fall on top of him, peppering his red face with kisses. "That was hot, Stevie. I didn't know you had it in you."

"You're the devil, aren't you?" Steve accused, shifting his hips, glaring to the side because he couldn't quite meet Bucky's eyes, even as he reached up and slid his arms around Bucky's neck. "N'I don't have it in me, that's why I was askin'. Get on with it already."

"See, you can do dirty, it's cute on you." Bucky was still laughing, even as he was taking Steve's hips into his hands and angling them how he wanted. "Mm, next time I oughtta have you bend over and hold 'em open for me."

"I'd do it myself first." Steve kneed Bucky in the hip. "I can rub one out just as good as you, you- ungh-"

Bucky's smirk was practically audible. Steve couldn't sass him once Bucky's cock even grazed his ass, especially if the tip was wet and slick and Steve was open and ready and all Bucky had to do was navigate and push. Of course, he couldn't sass back much, either, Steve opening up around his cock robbed him of anything resembling eloquence. He could really only tease Steve up to the second they started screwing, at which point his nonstop chatter usually fell apart.

"Mm, Stevie," he sighed, tossing his head, shoulders shifting as he hauled Steve up just where he wanted him, right where Steve would get the brunt of every thrust as close to his prostate as Bucky could manage while still having him on his back and watching his Bette Davis eyes roll and smolder at Bucky the whole time he was inside him. "There- there you go, baby. Toldja I'd take care of you, d'n I?"

"Bucky," Steve's voice was low and deep, his fingers loosed their hold on Bucky's neck and fell to press shakily against Bucky's chest instead. "Bucky, for the love of Mary, move your hips before you drive me out of my skull."

"Sounds like- an idea." Bucky eased back just a little before thrusting in so hard that Steve's teeth clicked together and his nails raked Bucky's chest. "How 'bout- You let me decide how I'm gonna fuck you, an' you, baby doll, find somethin' aside from naggin' to do with your pretty mouth. You ain't allowed to say nothin' except 'Bucky' til we finish. "

He punctuated it by moving his hips, earning a muffled grunt of want from where the back of Steve's right hand was pressing over his own mouth, so he did it again, and again, starting a steady rhythm that got so much noise out of Steve he ended up prying his hand loose to make sure.

"Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky," Steve was chanting, in various, desperate inflections that shifted with the slide of Bucky's cock in and out of his body, making him tremble incessantly from head to toes. There were whines and whimpers mixed in with growls and commands, but no words other than what Bucky had told him he could have.

Bucky brushed his mouth over Steve's, giving him a brief respite of tenderness, and then he was back to work, slamming into him hard enough to make him dissolve in bliss and tremors. Steve's whole bed creaked and rocked less than Bucky's, and if it was because he'd spent twice as much on it as he had on his own, well, Steve never needed to know.

Steve clamped both hands down over his mouth to muffle any kind of noises that might escape, though he relented occasionally to make sure he could breathe, and when Bucky started to get dizzy and close to the edge, he growled and Steve reached up to hold onto Bucky's shoulders, recognizing what the sound meant.

"How you doin', baby boy?" Bucky's vision was starting to swim. "You feeling good?"

"Bucky, Bucky, Bucky-" Steve was babbling incoherently, his lips and tongue dark and glistening in the nightglow that was still pouring through the curtains. His blunt nails were digging into the planes of Bucky's chest, clinging as if for his life. "Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please, Bucky, please-"

Bucky pressed his lips together, holding his breath for a moment to try and clear his head, then shifting Steve's hips and thighs so he could thrust into him and suck his nipple at the same time. Vaguely, he'd anticipated Steve would lose his mind a little bit, but the way his every muscle, even his ass, went tight and started to quake, that wasn't expected. Steve crashed through his dry orgasm and dragged Bucky along for the ride, his vocalizations reduced to a shaky, ragged but steady breath only after his eyes drifted closed in the ill-disguised euphoria that stole every ounce of tension from him and melted him into putty in Bucky's hands.

"Hug me," Bucky commanded, and Steve's nose grazed his jaw even as he made sure to collapse mostly by Steve's side, changing his mind at the last moment and gently rolling to pull Steve on top of him. Steve was loose-limbed and pliant, kissing and burying himself into Bucky, as amorous as he ever was, and Bucky got to stay inside him, which both of them liked. "That's my baby. Oh, Stevie. You make me happy, you know that?"

Steve laughed, shaking his head as he buried his nose deeper in Bucky's skin. "Din' even do nothin'," he insisted. "Just- nn. Took it."

"S'all you gotta do," Bucky assured him, stroking his back and closing his eyes, smirking over the top of Steve's head. "Be my sure thing, baby doll. That's all you gotta do."

Spent and sweaty, Steve pressed his sleepy face into Bucky's chest, then rested his ear against it, listening to Bucky's gradually slowing heart. "A'right. Mm."

Bucky kissed the top of Steve's tousled head, his hand still moving up and down Steve's back, slower and slower as they fell asleep.


End file.
